The Process is Stuck

The Process is Stuck
Image provided by Wouter de Bruijn
https://www.flickr.com/photos/w00ter/

The progress of my WiP is at a standstill. I knew something like this would happen eventually, but I was hoping it wouldn’t. The despondence that has taken over my being is increasingly maddening.

I sit here with my yWriter software open, peering at where I left off. I don’t know what to write next. It isn’t that I don’t know where the story is going because the whole thing is etched in my brain. The individual sentences refuse to travel from my head, through my fingers, onto the keyboard, therefore, showing up on the screen.

This is not writer’s block. Everything is there, right in my head. In fact, I even have some thoughts rolling around up there for future stories as well.

I don’t think it’s a case of losing my motivation either. I still want to sit in this chair and type away on what I hope will be a story of worth someday. I don’t find myself at a media site going through my streamline. TV isn’t of any interest to me. The only time I’m away from this writing is in the early morning when I go through the updates of the blogs I’m subscribed to along with other emails, when I just have to use the bathroom before I split open, and when I refill my mug or get something to eat. No, I think my motivation is still intact.

Still, all confidence concerning this stupid project of mine has vanished into oblivion. No, I’m not asking for warm fuzzys. In fact, I’d rather not have them. Anything like that would just make me feel more inept.

The last couple of weeks I’ve been working on my skills with general narrative and narrative descriptive writing. I thought that would boost my morale. The point had been to bring back to the forefront what I used to write so freely. It isn’t working out as well I hoped for. Could it be that I’m working on the wrong thing—just for right now?

Maybe I should be working on getting the characters into the story more effectively. Despite how I’ve tried to show my characters as whole people using body language, dialogue, and a little description here and there, I’m sure they’re still wooden, unfinished somehow.

Earlier today I found my way to the website, wiki How to do anything, where there was an article about developing characters. I have oodles of sites bookmarked or stashed at PearlTrees telling all about this subject. Yet, this one had the steps in a different order and the entire piece was written more like an instructor talking to students in a classroom. I found myself making mental notes so I could get started on this concept of building up and deepening my characters. Why this would have such as impact on me is a mystery.

I’m still a little in the dumps about this setback. My hopes to be writing a query letter about this time next year isn’t going to pan out, I’m afraid. I’ll be lucky if my work will be ready for professional editing by then. I’ll get over this though, just as soon as I’m back to working on the actual manuscript.

§

Have you ever be stuck?

Writing is easy: All you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead. ~Gene Fowler

 

Solutions, 10, The Edge

Solution, 10, The Edge
Image provided by
Isriya Paireepairit
@ https://www.flickr.com/photos/isriya/

It’s been scarcely over a week since I’ve had a post published on this blog. The lack of contact through WP has all been so that I can make some decisions that may or may not make any difference in my life. I’m not one to put things off. I want problems solved the minute they come up. But, I’m mystified as to even accurately construe these issues. One thing is for sure though. This process in trying to figure this all out is tiring. Something I wasn’t expecting at all. I had been thinking it would do the opposite, making me too hyper. Stubbornness will see me through.

Windows

Ten is out. I’m talking about Windows10. I didn’t have to pay the $119+ to get it due to a promotional giveaway Microsoft was doing. (Sorry, the giveaway ended July 29th.) There aren’t a lot of differences that are noticeable to the user, but the ones that are, I have to say, I’m kind of impressed with.

The seen changes:

  • The side start menu is back on the desktop. It looks different, of course. The apps fit into it making the entire window wider. It doesn’t look obnoxious though.
  • The taskbar at the bottom can be adjusted for what you want at the click of an icon on the same bar. You can decide between having the taskbar color blend with your desktop screen, another color of several to choose from, or just have it black.
  • The search is no longer in the start menu. It’s on the taskbar. One less click.
  • The Control Panel on the start menu is now called Settings. The interface for all that is in this section is more user-friendly. And, they’ve added Tablet Mode to this section.

The rest is like Windows 8.1 as far as I can see. If you’re thinking you need to upgrade your Windows program, I’d say go for Windows10.

Edge

I tried the new browser, Edge. Except for being able to actually put notes and draw on the websites, I was disappointed. I guess if you had reason to keep track of a website for whatever reason, you could make notes on it, circle things, and keep the webpage handy somewhere. However, because of what I find wrong with the program, this little perk isn’t worth it. The browser runs slow and sometimes stalls. It isn’t set up to transfer favorites/bookmarks either. In my opinion, it’s a failure.

Character gives us qualities, but it is in actions – what we do – that we are happy or the reverse….All human happiness and misery take the form of action.- Aristotle

 

Weekly Recap 3/14

Image provided by Roxanne @ https://www.flickr.com/photos/4ever30something/
Image provided by
Roxanne @ https://www.flickr.com/photos/4ever30something/

Even trying to think up a title for this type of post was mind-boggling. I like using words that many forget about, especially when it come to the title. But with this type of post, there isn’t a lot to choose from.

Here it is, for better or worse.

  • Ugly Baby Challenge Course – I still haven’t written enough flash fiction for this course. I have found a few fresh ideas for them though at @writingpromts over at Twitter.
  • WIP (work in progress) – I came across a whole series of posts at Janice Hardy’s Fiction University that changed my whole outlook on writing a novel. Way back last May, I started a story showing the journey of a woman, exhibiting how she changes with the experiences she has. A fourth of the way into the first draft, I realized I was running around in tangents. So what do I do? I put the project on the top shelf. Now with this series, I’m eager to try this story idea again.
  • The days of Spring seem to be upon us here in Tennessee judging the fact of how much rain we’re getting. Yes, it must be early because the rain isn’t suppose to come until April. It’s been making me feel down in the dumps so I’m turning on lights during the day to keep the inside of my home a little brighter. It is helping. If you’re having this feeling, you might want to try this. 😉

Well, that’s all for this first week of recaps. I’m hoping to expand as I go along here.

For those of you that aren’t getting this post until Sunday, I’ll try harder next week to get it out sooner. ❤

 

I've Returned

I wish I could have thought of a better title for this post. This one is bland, isn’t it? I even looked at a thesaurus. The word, returned, is as exciting as it gets.

I’ve missed reading your blogs. Were you even aware that I was absent from your domains? Chances are you didn’t know. That’s okay though. I prefer it that way, in fact. The last thing I want is that feeling of guilt for not keeping up with the blogosphere.

I did unsubscribe from a few blogs during the course of these two months. I wasn’t getting anything out of what I was reading at those sites. They’re the ones targeted toward writers (I didn’t leave all of them though.) The perceptions of these blogs were wrong for me. I’m sure there are many others who find those points of view to be perfect for them, just not for me.

 

I've Returned
copyright Glynis Jolly 2014

Where did I go and what did I see?

I went nowhere. In fact, I rarely went outside. It was either raining or too blasted hot. Sometimes it was both, which was really disgusting.

I did, however, see something worth sharing with you. I may have told you this first part before, but to be sure, I’m writing it again.

We have both inside kitties and outside kitties. The outside kitties are strays in the neighborhood. There’s a small gray female who we call Mama because her purpose in life, until recently, was to get pregnant and have litters of kittens. The first cat who came to visit our patio door was a white Manx male cat. We named him Jake. Mama and Jake must have become a couple in spite the actuality that cats don’t have life-long mates. They’ve had two litters together. We got both of these cats fixed this summer. I’m told it’s the best thing for them but I can’t say that I buy that answer. It seems to me that it’s just better for us humans. I know this is only my opinion and there are many who don’t agree with me. So be it.

The couple’s first litter included three sons, Stubby and Henry, and another male that got ran over before he was six months old. Their second litter included two males, Greyson and Clarence, and two females, Charlotte and one we didn’t name because a woman we know wanted to adopt her. We haven’t found out what name she’s given her kitten yet.

I don’t know if it’s because she was fixed or that she’s getting old, but Mama was getting worn out taking care of this second litter. A hero saved the day for her though. Stubby took over all playtime for Mama. Mama is still teaching them things in the woods behind our house and brings them up on the deck for food, but Stubby is doing the rest.

I've Returned
copyright Glynis Jolly 2014

 

I read four books during these last two months. I know that isn’t a lot for most people but because of my situation at home right now, it isn’t too bad either. The four books:

• Loose Ends by Terri Reid
• The Thrill of the Haunt by E. J. Copperman
• Turning Angel by Greg Iles
• Sole Survivor by Dean Koontz

Did I get any writing done?

Yes, I did, although not as much as I was hoping for. I guess my drive for my project was way down because during these last two months, my concentration is steadily gotten better and I feel that my confidence has taken a leap, at least concerning my writing process. This first draft of my intent is rough to the point of being seedy, but I keep on plugging along, knowing that the second draft will be better. I wish I could get the hang of being a plotter instead of a pantser, but I don’t think it’s going to happen.

Something else I’ve started doing is making a list of words I’m not completely sure of that I find when I read for pleasure. Yes, my vocabulary level is atrocious, so I’m trying to do something about it.

September

I used to love September as a kid. It had nothing to do with my birthday either. (Yes, I’m a September child.) I started going to school in 1959. Back then, school wasn’t thought about or discussed until after Labor Day, the first Monday of September. School wouldn’t open until the following Monday. I loved the excitement of getting new clothes, two full outfits at the most. I could hardly wait to go to the drug store to buy my school supplies: the notebook, paper, p-g folders, pens, pencils and whatever else was needed. Yes, I was one of those strange kids who loved school.

Nowadays school is open by mid-August, and in some places it starts the first part of August. I’ve seen some of the work my great niece and nephew have brought home. I’m appalled at how elementary their work still is. One is in middle school and the other is in high school. They think the assignment is hard if it takes more than one page of their paper to complete it. I wonder if they’re going to be ready to face the world once they graduate.

Despite my disappointment of today’s world, I still like September. The slightly cooler breezes brings to mind the changing of the season and soon there’ll be different colored leaves on the trees.

How was it for you these past two months?

 

The Shindig

The Shindig
Image provided by
eyeliam @ http://www.flickr.com/photos/eyeliam/

I knew the value of being in junior high school. I think most of the kids who lived on my street were the same as me, taking it as one of the many changes in life that inevitable. I was aware that junior high school didn’t mean I was becoming an adult. I was grounded in the reality of still being a kid despite the small changes happening to my body.

Yet, there were some challenges that I had to come to terms with. There was the walk to school, which was longer (1 ½ miles) and required crossing a major six-lane boulevard with turn lanes at each large intersection. For the first time, I was given homework that took more that fifteen minutes to complete. There weren’t multiple subjects per teacher. Each instructor had his/her own specialty in subjects. This meant that taking seven classes each day required seven different teachers.

My first year at Merrill Junior High School is still a blur. I did all right in my classes, but I was in a constant state of confusion that year. Other things were going on in my life at home that were equally turbulent.

Although the turmoil got worse at home, life in junior high school became enjoyable by the eighth grade. There seemed to be a private joke running around in my head as I would walk down the halls to my next class, sauntered around on the blacktop during the lunch hour (Some hour; it was a whole big twenty minutes.) or stood in line to take my shower after gym class. Everyone was talking about the opposite sex. The terms used were vulgar, of course. Do young teenagers know anything else? I, often, doubt it. I had my ‘telephone boyfriend’ so I found these conversation silly and a little narcissistic. Luckily, I was smart enough to know not to say anything. No doubt about it, I would have lost friendships if I had.

By the time I was in the ninth grade, junior high school was ‘old hat’. I was comfortable with my classes, that is except for one, science, which I will address at another time. I felt that most of the kids in school liked me or, at least, didn’t dislike me. That year was a jolt in self-esteem and confidence. It was the year when I found myself auditioning for a spot in the yearly show of the school.

Are you thinking I played my flute? I could have. I had been in a couple of ‘All City’ bands by the time I hit the age of fourteen. However, this was during the late 1960s, the height of the ‘hippy era’. To be cool, you had to play the guitar. I had gotten an acoustic classical guitar for Christmas the previous year and had taken a few lessons from Mr. Gary, my flute teacher. I found guitar books filled with popular music scores at The Music Box, a store just three miles from my home.

One of the friends I had acquired within the previous two years, Debbie, had a soft melodic voice. I asked her to go in with me on my plan to sing in the yearly show, The Shindig. Once she understood that I’d be sing harmony and she would have the lead with the melody, she graciously accepted my offer.

Debbie wanted to play an instrument too. I really couldn’t blame her. I had my guitar to hide behind when on stage. She would be standing there with nothing to protect her from her fears. She didn’t know how to play any instrument, which limited our search to percussion only. She wanted to play the tambourine. The only problem was the song we had picked to perform, ‘House of the Rising Sun’. It’s a sad tale of a man’s life. The last thing it ever would need is a lively beat. I had to talk her out of the notion of banging on tin. She ended up standing on the stage with her fears feeling exposed.

Our little act was third on the list of performances. We were there to keep the audience entertained as prompts were being put up and arranged behind the curtain. Yes, we were a minor act. Should I have tried for something more? No, I don’t think so. My heart just wasn’t going in that direction.

 

The experience did teach me that I was capable of almost anything that I wanted to do. It built a hope in me that I still carry today.